


This Is My Heart, Treat It Well

by gala_apples



Series: My Songs Sound Like Yours [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Background Poly, First Time, Light Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 21:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes the whole evening, but Sam gets the truth from him. Even better, he's not horrified.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is My Heart, Treat It Well

A lot of things that make sense in one context don’t in another. That’s why Blaine doesn’t say anything to Sam, even though he’s dying to. Even though he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since Friday night, when he was the first to drop the word ‘poly’. Everyone agreeing to an orgy after a make out fueled night is a lot different than demanding in the auditorium that they hang out after school and fool around. If Sam said no, no matter how gently, it would be embarrassing as hell. Blaine spends a lot of effort making sure he never loses face. It’s important to him.

So it’s another night of not saying anything, this time at Blaine’s house. If they hang out directly after Glee they usually have to go to Sam’s house to keep an eye on Stacie and Stevie. Later in the evening though, Sam’s parents will be home and Sam will be free to go wherever he wants. Blaine’s fine with waiting. Even if he didn’t have a bit of a thing for accommodating people with such finesse that they barely notice he’s doing it, Sam makes a great after dinner guest. Blaine needs time in the evening to wind down, and Sam’s always content to sit around and read comics and rewatch movies they’ve both seen a dozen times. And talk, of course. They’re both very good at talking. 

Blaine’s reading some comic the counter guy recommended while Sam’s rereading Marvel Zombies and snickering at all the gore. Or at least that’s what Blaine thinks they’re doing. Sam must think something completely different, because out of nowhere he twists to the side and kisses Blaine. Blaine enjoys it for all he’s worth. He doesn’t need an explanation to like Sam’s chapstick lips.

“Sorry,” Sam pulls away to explain anyway. “It’s just been like three days since I’ve had sex. My balls got used to a Brittany schedule. I mean I guess it would have been over anyway, since she’s with Santana again or whatever. But sex two or three times a day to nothing is a huge jizz deficient, you know?”

Blaine wants to be supportive, but he doesn’t actually know. “Sort of? Me and Kurt were long distance before we broke up, so.”

“I guess I just thought this would start up immediately? But Ryder jumped when I grabbed his ass in the hall, and I know Marley’s a virgin but apparently she’s not looking to fix that this second?”

“I wouldn’t.”

“What?”

Blaine clarifies. “Jump. I wouldn’t, if you ever wanted to.”

Sam punches his arm lightly, in a way that gives Blaine the feeling that if they were having this conversation standing up, Sam’s hand would already be on his ass. “Good to know, dude. Anything else you want to share with the class?”

“Like what?”

Sam shrugs. “You’re obviously not a virgin. What do you like? Sucking, fucking, eating someone out? Skirts with no underwear, which sounds hetero but isn’t because Kurt’s totally worn skirts before? Feet? Pearl Necklaces? Eiffel Towering? Come on dude, what makes you say ‘holy shit I’m going to bust a nut _right now_ ’?”

Blaine blushes. He’s never heard dirty talk like that before. “Stuff people would do, or stuff that I think is hot?”

Sam asks “what’s the difference?”

“There’s a big difference.” It seems obvious to Blaine that people don’t always want to do what the kinkiest porn they’ve seen does.

“Look. I don’t want to talk smack about past relationships, that’s not cool. Unless every party half involved completely hates the ex, then it can be fun. But one man’s trash is another’s treasure. Just because Kurt... or guy before Kurt, or guy you cheated on Kurt with, whatever. Just because everyone so far wasn’t into it doesn’t mean I won’t be into it.”

Blaine stays quiet, doesn’t try to explain the dark bits that are in his head sometimes. If he has to, he’ll just make something dirty up. Like he can say he likes balls better than dicks. Sam at least will be immaculately shaved. Jake and Ryder probably won’t be, but he can cross those bridges if he ever gets there.

Blaine looks at the comic in his lap. It closed itself when he was touching Sam, but the nice thing about comics is there’s not a lot of text to get lost in. He’ll find his spot again no problem. Blaine gets as far as opening the cover when Sam gently but firmly puts his hand on top of the page. 

“Uh,” Blaine starts, eyes flicking from the obstructed comic to Sam’s pretty face.

“I’m going to get it out of you tonight. But while we’re waiting we should get naked.” Sam lets go of the comic and stands in one deft move, actions brooking no refusal.

Blaine can’t help but watch as Sam starts stripping. It’s not dirty the way his professional moves would be, it’s just efficient shucking of clothes. Blaine’s still excited. This is something he was sure he’d never have.

Sam pauses, clad only in his tight grey boxer briefs. Blaine wishes he could take a picture. He’s seen the scene in front of him probably a hundred times, between gym class and changing for Glee, but this is the first time he’s been allowed to acknowledge the sexiness of it. And then Sam opens opens his mouth and takes it to a whole new level.

“This is the same as girl anal, right?”

“Um. I never- Kissing Rachel was...” And Marley and Unique too, he guesses. But his point still stands. He’s definitely never done girl anal.

“Right. Well, it’s like you finger them open, you make it as wet and open as up front- okay, I guess that part’s different. But still, make you all slick and open, until you’re just begging for it. And then the fucking begins.”

Blaine attempts to swallow, then scrapes his tongue against the roof of his mouth and tries again. It feels like Sam’s dirty talk has stopped all ability to speak, at least coherently. “Yes,” he finally manages. “That sounds about right.”

“Great. Get naked. I can’t fuck you with your clothes on.”

Blaine responds to the smiled order by throwing himself up and stripping. He’s pretty sure his haste makes it less sexy than Sam’s casual reveal, but it’s how he responds to orders.

“Great,” Sam repeats once Blaine is nude. Blaine doesn’t think he whimpers at the praise, but he must do something Sam catches. “Yeah? Like being complimented? Well, who doesn’t want to be told they’re hot? And it’s true, so it’ll be easy to tell you when I’m balls deep.”

That’s not exactly what Blaine’s kink is, but he doesn’t say that to Sam. It’s not like it’ll hurt, being complimented in bed.

Blaine’s not sure how fast Sam moves. He’s imagined Sam’s sexual prowess in about thirty different ways, but he’s never actually asked. He’s not rude like that, and besides, he doesn’t particularly want to hear the finer details of ‘Bram’. The last five minutes have made it pretty clear though that Sam is bold and knows what he wants. Blaine can try to be the same. He kneels on the edge of his bed, legs spread just enough to look inviting. He hopes. There’s always a chance that Sam will have a gay freakout.

Sam doesn’t act traumatised upon seeing his balls. In fact he has pretty much the exact opposite reaction. He gives Blaine a long head to kneecaps onceover, then turns around to grab the antique cigar box that holds all of Blaine’s sex supplies. Blaine’s pleased at the reaction, at least until the confusion breaks through. “You didn’t have to ask where the lube is.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “It’s practically a duty to wander around your bff’s bedroom and poke at his stuff when he’s in the bathroom.”

Blaine doesn’t think he’s ever done that, and he says as much.

“Well yeah. You’re all rich and polite and stuff. You have three different kinds of forks. Middle class people snoop. So anyway, what’s your favourite way to fuck? Might as well finger you in that position too, right?”

Blaine is desperate to say anything you want, but that might be too clingy for Sam. Blaine’s not sure where that line is yet. “On my stomach?”

“Sure. It’s not like you don’t have ten thousand throw pillows to prop your hips up.”

Blaine actually has as many throw pillows as suits his mother’s interior decorator, but he’s not about to say that. Not when the Evans are still struggling to build up credit. It’s a much better idea to just fall backwards until his back is on the bed and his calves are pinned under his thighs. He rolls over as Sam settles on the edge and very narrowly avoids kicking his -boyfriend?- in the face.

The first finger that enters him makes Blaine ache. It’s not the stretch, he’s used to that. He can’t even remember the last time he masturbated without penetration. It’s that another person is doing it. He’s not alone. It’s that someone who cares about him wants to fuck him, and stick around afterwards.

When Sam gets going, it becomes blisteringly hot. Blaine knows his legs are spreading wide, knows he’s arching his ass like he’s a pet cat, but he can’t bring himself to feel ashamed when Sam is rocking in with two fingers like he owns every inch of Blaine. He’s a master at this somehow, already, even though it’s his first time. Frankly Blaine is impressed he’s showing so much self-restraint. He could be screaming.

Sam doesn’t stop pumping his hand the next time he asks a question, which makes it hard to focus. Thankfully it’s an easy question. “Double checking, are you sure you want more? I mean Brit liked it, but she only got two into me before it was too much.”

“Can’t think of much I want more than more,” Blaine says honestly. And even if he didn’t want more, he’d lie just to hear Sam talk about getting fingered himself. He doesn’t even care that it was a girl doing it.

“Good to know.” 

There’s a bit of rustling, and then Blaine feels the cold wet of Sam squeezing more lube into his crack. Sam’s ring finger presses against his hole before sinking in. Blaine groans against his pillow as Sam crooks his fingers. Sam’s exceptionally good at prostate finding, considering this is his first time with a guy.

Blaine should be begging Sam to fuck him. If it was Kurt, if it was Eli, if it was Jack, he would be. But this is Sam, and Sam is only bi-curious, and Blaine isn’t going to do a single thing to make him retreat. So he just continues to arch his hips, and if his body language is saying what he won’t let his lips, well at least that’s easier to ignore.

“Now that I know how much you want this, let me blackmail you.”

“Uh?” Blaine’s pretty sure everyone at McKinley already know he likes bottoming, thanks to that bitch Sylvester. What more of the situation is there left to blackmail with?

Sam’s grinning a filthy smile, Blaine can hear it in his voice. “I’ll fuck you once you tell me what makes your body scream to be fucked.”

“Sam, just-” God, just fuck him, just please please fuck him. 

“I just really wanna know. We’re gonna be like, boyfriends, right? So I gotta know what you’re into.”

Blaine thinks frantically for a second, then replies “I’ll tell you after we both orgasm.” At least that way if Sam’s weirded out he’ll at least have had this once. Blaine’ll still regret things, but not as much as never having gotten there at all.

“You promise?”

“Yes. I promise.”

That’s apparently the right answer because that’s when Sam takes out his fingers and enters him. Blaine exhales heavily against the warm cotton of his pillow. It’s been a while since the wedding. Even if the failed event had happened yesterday, this is so much different. That sex was nostalgia, with a frisson of one sided desperation. This is new, and the longer Sam fucks him the more sure Blaine is that it’s mutual. He can’t see Sam walking away from this fully dressed but only half tidy, not caring who sees and _knows_ because it doesn’t matter enough to keep secret.

Sam slides his hands between Blaine and the small stack of pillows and pulls up, giving Blaine no choice but to cant his ass. The new angle does wonders, Sam gets his prostate with the very first thrust of the altered position. Blaine’s body clenches instinctively. After a beat he relaxes completely. Sam’s going to work Blaine’s body and the best thing to do is let him.

After Blaine lets go, everything gets even better. Impossible, but true. His being fractures into two different kinds of pleasure. There’s the physical; Sam really does know his way around a body. But there’s also the mental pleasure of barely being there. All of his thoughts are...away, somehow. The relief of his brain dissipating is very nearly orgasmic in itself.

It doesn’t come back together until Sam says something that doesn’t sound like the compliments he’s been peppering him with. Even when Blaine replays the comment it doesn’t make sense. Hurry up? He’s not the one thrusting. He’s not even arching back to meet Sam’s every stroke because that goes against the decision of letting Sam do as he will. 

Blaine furrows his eyebrows. He wants to do what Sam wants. He does. He’s just not sure what Sam means. It’s hard to think, like this. “Huh?”

“Hurry up and come already,” Sam answers, not slowing his movements at all. “A good guy helps the girl go first.”

“I’m not-” Blaine trails off. Somewhere off in the corner is a distant worry that Sam’s been closing his eyes and imagining girl-ass. Not quite close enough to pull off and crawl to the opposite side of the bed for a serious conversation though.

“I know you’re not. But I’m still the do-ee and you’re the do-er. So come already, so I can. Please, man?”

Blaine’s orgasm is almost instantaneous. Every muscle loosens as Blaine’s body does exactly as requested. Sam’s fingers curl hard against Blaine’s skin and he pounds forward for three more strokes, Blaine taking them willingly, before he collapses onto Blaine’s back. Not the most graceful, but Blaine can’t imagine complaining.

The next few minutes are full of Sam stripping off his condom, and wiping off as many fluids as he can, and cajoling Blaine to push himself up for just a second so he can put a towel down over the wet mess. It’s a show of competence that Blaine would probably find super sexy if he wasn’t so pleasantly adrift. Finally though Sam is right where he should be, that is crunching the bedsprings as he sits on the other side of the mattress. 

“So what’s up?”

“Hhhm?” Blaine’s face is half buried in the pillow, making his wordless response even more mumbled. It’s only a quarter after nine, but he’s tired and still not all together. Maybe no will notice if he stays here for the rest of the night. Sam can fall asleep with him. He seems pretty comfortable laid out on his back, head propped up on both palms.

“What’s your number one sex more-more-more? And don’t try to tell me you’re passing out now and you’ll tell me later.”

Just like that the pleasant afterglow is all gone. Blaine just can’t see this conversation ending well. He’s attempted to talk about this before. One of the three things didn’t go over too well with Kurt. Fearing more rejection Blaine hadn’t even bothered to say the other two. Some kinks really are too dirty to acknowledge outside of porn.

Sam’s all but rolling his eyes at the reluctance. “Look, dude. I was a stripper, and I’ve dated Brittany. And Santana. I know stuff. I bet I’ve heard of what you like, even if I haven’t done it. And then I’ll try it, because everything once, right?”

In that moment Blaine decides to tell him. Maybe because he promised. Maybe because Sam’s not going to shut up if he doesn’t. Maybe because Sam is one of the most open minded guys he knows, apart from Jeff and Nick. Whatever the reason Blaine twists his neck a bit so he’s not speaking into the pillow and says what he’s never told anyone. 

“I like being instructed on what to do. Told. Ordered. And then if it’s perfect, I get complimented. And it’s hot when people get tied up. And sometimes I get a thrill out of getting hurt, even when it’s just been a dumb teenage thing like getting pushed into a locker.”

“Ugh,” is the first word out of Sam’s mouth. Blaine’s stomach plummets.

“Ugh?” He can’t look at Sam. This is awful, this is _so awful_ , and he knew this was going to happen. How could he have been so stupid to think anything else might?

“No, no, wait. Not _ugh_ , ugh. Just ugh because now I’m going to sound like a total tool, and I hate that.”

Blaine is confused.

“Sorry, but I’m going back on the promise I just made. That isn’t actually something I want to do. Playing with power isn’t my thing. Sorry,” he repeats. “But it’s totally not something you should think is too weird to do. It’s just not gonna be with me. I have an idea, though. And while I’m waiting to see if that works...”

Sam rolls onto his side in the next moment, coaxing Blaine to do the same with a gentle hand. Then he scoots in closer until he’s spooning him. It feels like a reward for telling the truth, saying the hard stuff. It feels _good_. Blaine is always pro-snuggles, but these feel _earned_.


End file.
